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LIBRARY 

SANDIEOa 


Sun  Prints  in  Sky  Tints 


ORIGINAL    DESIGNS    WITH    APPROPRIATE    SELECTIONS 


BY 


IRENE     E.    JEROME 


BOSTON 
LEE     AND     SHEPARD     PUBLISHERS 

1  o    M  1 1,  K    Street 
i«93 


FOR  THEIR  COURTESY  IN  ALLOWING  THE  USE  OF  COPYRIGHT  MATERIAL, 
GRATEFUL  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS  ARE  MADE  TO  MESSRS.  HOUGHTON, 
MIFFLIN,  &  COMPANY,  ROBERTS  BROTHERS,  HARPER  AND  BROTHERS, 
The  CENTURY  COMPANY,  AND  TO  THE  AUTHORS  WHOSE  POEMS  HAVE 
BEEN    USED    IN    THIS   VOLUME. 


Copyright,  1892,  by  Lee  and  Sheparij 

All  rights  reserved 
Sun   Prints  in  Sky  Tints 


PRESS   OF 

Kothbicll   anO   Churchill 

BOSTON 


THESE     OUT-DOOR     SKETCHES 
are   dedicated  to 

HHRRIET    S.    ROWLEY 
KHTE    B.    SWHN 
MABEL    E.    DflYIS 
ALICE    LEE 

friends    in     glad    succession    thjroUgli    nqy    girll^iood    years 

YJitY\  wtioiTi   I   l^ave  enjoyed 

MHNY    HflPPY     HOURS    UNDER    THE    OPEN    SKY 


M^l\ile  tlr\e  title  of  t]:)is  illustrated  volUnQe  is, 
tect^nically  speaKing.  incorrect,  yet  during  a  recent 
surnrrier  spent  anqong  our  nortt^ern  lakes,  tl:\e  artist 
and  nqany  friends  at  a  distance  found  so  rr\\lcY] 
delig]:)t  in  tl^e  BLUE  PRINT  so  easily  produced 
by  tl^e  pliotograpl^er,  tl^at  s]\e  ]\as  endeavored 
in  lier  sKetcl:|es  to  give  an  irnp^ession  or  sug- 
gestion of  tiqe  sarr\e,  as  n^cirly  as  possible,  by  ttie 
printer's  art. 


Conqe  —  ol:\,   corr\e  I    for  you  ar\d   nqe 
flll  t]:\ese  siirT\rr\er    rr\orr|irigs   be; 
Conqe  —  ol^,   corr\e  I  for  rr\e  arid  you 
Eact)  soft  evening  drops   its  dev\^ ; 
Morn   and   noon   and   sunset's  glow 
Made  for  you   and   n\e,  you   Know  I ' 

C.  F.  Brlggs. 


(9) 


SPRING 

fls  little  cl\ildren   gatl^er  round  tl)eir  iTiotl\er, 
Hrid  beg  l)er  a  fanqiliar  tale  to  tell, — 

One  tl\at  is  dearer  far  tl\an  any  otl\er, 
Because  so   often  l^eard  and   Known  so  well: 

And   as  tl^ey  watch)   l^er,   prornpting   sliould  sY\e  falter, 

And  any  variation   qUicKly  see, 
And   cry,   "  Don't  tell  it  so,   don't  chiange  and  alter. 

We  want   it   just  tl)e   Way  it  Used  to  be,"  — 


So   do   We   corqe   to   tl]ee,   0   Nature — Motlier, 
And  never  tire  of  listening  ^o  tl^y    tales. 

Tell  Us  tl^y  spring-tinqe  story  now,  —  no  otl|er, — 
Tliat  l|atl^   a   wondrous   clnarrn,  wl)icli   never  fails. 


Tell  it  witl|  all   tt|e   old-tirqe  strength}  and  glory. 
Fill   it  Witl)   rnany   a   liappy  song   and   sl^out: 

Don't  rqiss  one  bird   or  blossorq  in  ^h^  story. 
Don't  leave  one  daffodil  or  daisy  out. 


Tell  Us  eacli   sliade   in   all  tl)e  trees'   soft  greening, 
Don't  skip  one  blade  of  grass,  one  bee,  one  wren,— 
Each)  little  tiding  l]as  grown  so  full  of  rneanina.    / 
.  In   thje   dear  story   We   would   l^ear   again. 

0   Mothier   Nature!   ttiou   art  old   and   l^oary,  ^^ 

And  wonderful   and  strange  tilings  tl]ou  canst  tell ; 

But  we,  like  little  cliildren,  love  tl|e  spring-tinqe  story 
And   tl]ink   it   best,   because  we   know   it  well. 

BrssIb    ChandlBr 


\'> 


(  II  ) 


THE    CITY    IN    THE    SPRING 

"  It  is   not   rTjLicI)  tl)at  iriaKes   nqe  glad ; 
I  I\old   rr\ore  tl^an   I   ever  I|ad. 
TI\e  enqpty  l^arid   nqay  fartl\er  reaci), 
Rr\d  srriall,   sweet  signs  all   beauty  teacti. 

"  I   like  tl)G  city   in  tl\e  spring, 
It  i\as  a   l)int  of  everytl)ing. 
Down   in  tl)e  yard   I   like   to  see 
Ti^e  budding  of  tlr\at  single  tree, 


Tl)e  little  sparrows  on  tl\e  sl^ed ; 
Tl^e  scrap  of  soft  sky  overl^ead ; 

Ti\e  cat  Upon  tiie  sunny  "^aii ; 

Tliere's  so  rnucli  rneant  anqong  tlierq  all. 

"  Tl^e  dandelion   in  t^l©  cleft 
fl  broken  paverqent  nqay  I\ave  left, 
Is   like  tl|e  star  tl|at,   still  and  sweet, 
Sliines  wt^ere  tl|e  t^ousetops  alnqost  nqeet. 


!A 


-^ 


"  I   like  a  little ;   all  tl^e  rest 
Is  sornewl)ere ;  and  our  Lord  knows  best 
How  tt|e  wl)ole  robe  I\atl|  grace  for  tt^eni 
WI|o  only  toucli  tl\e  garrqent's  l^ern." 


Si?. 


Mrs,  R.  E.  T.  Whitney. 


13  ) 


THE     SLEEPING     FLOWERS 

"  Whose  are  t\\e  little   beds,"   I    asKed, 

"  Wl|icl\  in  tt\e   Valleys  lie?" 
Sonqe  sl^ooK  tl)eir  l^eads,   arid  otl^ers  srqiled, 

And   x]0  one   rnade  reply. 

"Perl^aps  tl^ey  did   not   i^ear,"   I   said, 

I    will   inqiiire   again : 
"  Wl|ose  are  tl)e  beds,   tl:\e   tiny   beds, 

So  tl)icK   Upon   tl:\e   plain?" 

"  'Tis  daisy   in   tl)e  sl)ortest, 

R   little  fartiier  on, 
Nearest  tY\e  door  to  waKe  tl^e   first 

Little  leontodon." 

"  'Tis   iris,   sir,   and   aster 

Anenqone   and   bell, 
Batscl)ia   in   tl^e   blanket   red, 

And   cl^Ubby   daffodil." 

Meanwi^lile   at   nqany   cradles 

Her  busy  foot  sl)e   plied, 
Hurnrqing   tl^e   quaintest    lullaby 

Tlqat  ever  rocked  a  cl\ild, 

"  HUslq  !      Epigia   waKens  I 

Tlqe  crocus  stirs  l)er  lids  I 
Rlqodora's  ct\eeK  is  crirnson, — 

Side's   drearqing   of  tl|e   woods  " 

Tlqen  turning   fi'orn  tl\ern,   reverent, 
"  Tl\eir  bed-tinqe   ''tis,"   si^e   said ; 

"Tlqe   bUrnble-bees   Will   WaKe   trienq, 
Wl\en  April  woods  are  red" 

Emily  nickEnsDn. 
(15) 


IN    APRIL 

W]\at  are  tY[e  dearest  treasures  of  tl^e  spring  ? 

TI\e  rosy  l^aze  tl\at  veils  tl^e  forest  bare ; 

TJ:\e  vague,  sweet  fragrance  in  tl^e  balnqy  air 
TI)e  twitter  of  tl\e  swallows  on  tl^e  wing ; 


TI\e  tender  beauty  of  tl\e  Wavering  ligllt ; 

Tlje  rain  as  swift. as  tears  in  babies'  eyes; 

Tl)e  sudden  sunsliine  in  tl^e  cliangeful  sKies 
TI)e  softened  brigl\tness  of  tl|e  starlit  r\iqlc\t ; 


:^''\^:^K^0 


■o^^ 


TI|e  fresl\ening  ernerald  of  t\\e  bladed  grass; 

TI)e  sparkle  of  tY\e  rnyriad-dinqpled  sea ; 

TY\e  rusl\  of  inountain  brooks  once  nqore  set  free 
TI|e  sense  of  early  bloonq  so  soon  to  pass,  — 


Tt^ese  are  rnost  fair,  but  rnore  tl^an  tl^ese  to  nqe 

Tl)e  \v'akening  rnernories  of  tlie  vanisl^ed  years, 

Tender  regrets  grown  dinq  'neatl)  nqany  tears, 
Rr\d  sorrows  softened  like  a  rainy  sea  ; 

Swift  recollections  of  forgotten  bliss 

Tlirilling  tl)e  I^eart  witl)  dreanqs  of  joy  again. 
fln  ecstasy  of  pleasure  sI\ot  witl\  pain. 

As  when  tl|e  sunbearns  and  tl\e  raindrops  kiss; 

Reluctant  l^opes  tY\at  conqe  like  snowdrops  Whiite, 
Tf|e  faint  frail  I|arbingers  of  l^appier  days. 
Filling  tl\e  ]\eart  witl)  treinulous  anqaze 

T\\at  hiardly  dares  to  call  itself  deligl|t, — 

Tlqese  are  tlqe  dearest  treasures  of  tY\e  spring  ; 

Tl\ese  are  tl)e  flowers  tY\e  I\eart  perceives  nqore  fair 

Tl)an  all  I\er  blossonqs  born  of  sunny  air". 
Tlqan  all  I\er  birds  of  briglqt  and  restless  wing. 

KatE  Hillard, 


(17) 


MORNING     MEADOWS 


i4««* 


Tl^e  dew  is  on   tl^e  grass, 

Thje  bee   is   iri  tl^e  clover; 
TY\e  rrierry  bird,  tt^e  bobolirik, 

He  sings  and  liovers  over, 

Tlc\e  nqowers  s-wing  and  sway, 
Tl:\ey  sway  and  swing  togeti^er, 

Across  tl^e  nqeadoWs  sl]irnrT|ering  green, 
In  tl^e  sweet  silrnrr\er  weatl:\er. 

About  tl-^e  wooded   I)ills 

Tl^e   nqorning  rqists  are  clinging; 
And   in  tl)e  swatl^s  tl^e  rqowers  pause 

And  set  t]r\eir  scytl^es  a-ringing. 

The  dew   is  on  tl-^e  grass, 
TI)e  burnble-bees  are  I^urrirning- 

Across  tl\e  fields,   0  bobolink, 
Tl^e  swinging  scytl)es  are  corning  I 

Beneathi  tY\e  blades  and  bloorqs. 
Your  quiet  rqate  still   presses 

Her  sober  breast  against  I)er  nest, 
In  st\aded  green  recesses. 

Cry  out,   0  bobolink, 

Tl^ere's  tY\at  wl\icl)  bodes  disaster; 
LaUgi^  out,   0  jocund   bobolink, 

Tl)e  scythies  are  swinging   past  l\er. 

Tl\e  dew  is  on  tl)e  grass, 

TYie  bees  are  in  tl\e  clover, 
Tl^e  rqerry   bird,  tl^ie  bobolink. 

He  sings  and  I\overs  over  — 
y/^ -^  Bobolink  I 

"'^^  E    C.  Mpsser. 


.-> 


7h 


n  /  W/ 


(  19  ) 


R    GLIMPSE    OF    THE    HIGHWHY 

Only   a   bit   of  tl^e   lr[iqY\v^ay  surining   itself  on   tY\e   Y\i\\, 
By   it   tY\e   beailtifiil  river,   singing  a   song   in   tl:|e   nqill ; 

Only  a   bit  of  tl^e   tiigl^Way,   I  see  it  as   I  sit  by  tl)e  door, 

find  tl^e  valley  is  pleasant  bel^ind  it,  and  tl)e  valley  is  pleasant  before 

People  corne  out  of  tY\e  valley,   and   into  tt|e  valley  tt)ey  go  : 
fl   sl^adow  dotl)  ferry  tlr[e  river,   under  a  piloting   crow. 

'Tis   but   a   rnonqent   I   see   tl:|ern:   only   a   glirnpse   I   obtain; 

Wh)at  do   I   Know  of  tl)eir  losses?    Wt|at  do  tl^ey   know  of   rny  gain? 

I  Know  tY\at  tl)ey  are  bearing  tl^eir  burdens  as  I  Know  tlr^at  I  do  inqine, 
And  I  Know  tt\at  tl^ey  l^ave  tl\eir  gladness,  —  no  l^appier  l^eart  tl^an  rnin©- 

For  never  a  l]igl^way  windetli   over  tl^e  eartl^,  but  tl^ere 

Feet  of  tl-|e   Irjappy  are  on   it,  —  feet  tl^at  are  followed   by  care. 

Tl^e   sl)adow  thiat  ferried  tl:\e  river  Y\atY[  fallen  asleep  on  tl^e   sea  I 
Hnd   tY\e   river,   unt)eard   by  tl^e   rniHer,   is  singing   a   song   in  iT^e. 


Only  a  glinqpse  of  tY\e  l^ighway   I  get   as   I  sit  by  tlie  door! 
But   it   tiints   at   tl^e   journey   belnind    nqe.    nnrl    thP   journey 

rernaining  before. 


Hiram    Rich, 


(  21  ) 


IN    cJUNE 


"I   shoTw  unto  you  a  mystEry." 

0,   friend,   your  face   I   cannot  see, 

Yoiir  voice   I   cannot  l^ear. 
But  for  Us  bott|  breaKs  at   our   feet 

Tl)e  flood-tide  of  tY\e  year  I 
Tl^e   sUrqnqertide   all    beautiful 

Witl^  fragrance,   and  \Vitl\  song 
Sung  by  t]\e  ]:|appy-]^earted  birds 

To  c]:\eer  tl-^e   inqontl^s  along. 

RT[d   so  t]\e   riqystery   I   slr\ow 

Is   ti|is,   all   sinqple-sWeet : 
Because  God's  sUrnrnertide  so  breaks 

fit  yours  and  at  rny  feet. 
We're   not  so   very  far  apart 

As   it  at  first   would   seen) 
We're   near  eacl)   oti^er  in  tt|e   Lord 

Tt\e  nqiles   are   all   a   dreanq. 

John   W.  Chad".-: 


ANGELS'    WINGS 

]MY\er\  siirT\rr)Gr  days  v^ere  warrri  and  sweet 

Wit]:)  clover-bloorr\  and  ripening  wl:\eat,  >,_ 

We  used  to  lie  Upon  tl^e  grass 
Witl:|in  tl^e  flickering  slr^adow  spread 
By  leafy  brancl^es  overl^ead,  '-^■ 

fln.d  watcl:|  tlie  brigl-|t  clouds  slo"Wlv 
pas=; 


Tl^ey  Were  so  Wt^ite  against  tl^e  blue, 
Witl^  sucl^  a  glory  strearning  tiirougt) 

Tt^eir  silver  fleeces,  we  were  sure 
Tl:\ey  rriust,  at  least,  be  angels'  wings ; 
find  ttie  nqere  fancy  of  suct)  tilings 

Kept  cl^ildisl:)  speecl:]  and  conduct  pure. 

We  nqust  not  quarrel,  Wl:)en  tl^e  sKies, 
For  all  we  Knew,  were  full  of  eyes 

Tt|at  watct]ed  to  see  if  we  were  good ; 
Rr\d  sornetirnes  just  tl:\e  sigl^t  of  one 
Wl:iite  cloud  illUrqined  by  tY\e  sun 

Availed  to  cl^ecK  an  angry  nqood. 

Now  we  are  wonqen  grown,  and  rqen, 
Tl-^at  were  but  careless  cl^ildren  tt^en  : 

Wise  witl^  our  realistic  lore, 
Trie  sl^ining  rnystery  we  explain  — 
Only  a  vapor  born  of  rain  1  — 

And  drearri  of  angels'  wings  no  nqore 

But  are  we  wiser,  after  all? 
Haply  tY[e  world-worn  l^earts  recall, 

Witli  sonqethiing  like  a  tt)rill  of  dread, 
Wl^at  tinqe  tt^e  Master,  Undefiled, 
"Set  in  tlrieir  rqidst  a  little  ct^ild,'  — 

And  wlnat  tlie  Words  were  ttiat  He  said. 

It  nriigtit  — We  silently  infer  — 
It  rnigllt  perl^aps  be  easier 

T\\e  Kingdorn  of  tl^e  Lord  to  win. 
If  still  in  far  blue  sunqrner  skies 
We  felt  the  watcl:iing  angel  eyes 

Tixat  Kept  our  ctiildis^  l^earts  fronq  sin. 

Mary  E 


\^ 


4. 


% 


V- 


WHITE    CLOVER 

lr\    nqyriad   snowy   cl^alices   of  sweet 

Tlioii   spread'st   by  dusty   ways   a    bouquet   firie, 

So   firie   tl^at  vulgar  crowds   of  it   no   sign 
Observe  I  r\ay,  trarnple   it  beneatl^   tl^eir  feet. 
0,   dainty  and   unsullied   on©  I   no   n\eet 

Interpretation    I  of  tl^ee  divine. 

Althjoug]:!  all   sUrqrner   long    I    q^aff  ti^y  wine, 
And   never  pass  tl^ee  but  to   reverent  greet. 
Hnd   pause   in   w'onder   at  thie   nqiracle 
Of  tt^ee,   so  fair,   and  yet  so   nqeeKly   low. 

Mayl^ap  tl)ou   art  a   saintly  princess  bowed, 
In   token   of  sorne   grief  wl^icl)   tl^ee   befell. 
Tl^is   pilgrirnage   of  rqinistry   to   go, 

Rnd   never  speak  tliy  lineage  aloud  [ 

Aa     h.  h. 


X 


MENTONE 

^li llAKrms  .\I.\ii.v/.l.SK.  copyrij^lil,  lfSJS4,  by  IhiriJi-r  .v  Hn>tluTs. j 

"  find   thers   ■was    ai-jen   nnta    thr=in    a    =;hort  timR   'hHfnrp    thev  v7E=nt   fnrw/ard. 

Upon   tr|is   sunriy  sl^ore 
R   little  space  for   rest,     Tl^e   care   and   sorrow, 

Sad  nqerriory's  l^ailritirig  pair)  tl^at  would  not  cease, 
Are  left  bel^ind.     It   is   not  yet  to-nqorrow, 

To-day  tlqere  falls  tlr\e  dear  surprise   of  peace  I 
Tl)e  sky  and  sea,  tl^eir  broad  wings  round  us  sweeping, 
Close  out  tl^e  World  and  l^old  us  in  tl\eir  keeping. 
R  little  space  for  rest.     R]\]  tY[0\lqY\  soon   o'er, 
How  precious   is  it  on  tl)e  sunny  sl^ore  i 


Upon  tl:\is  sunny  sliore 
R  little  space  for  love,  wl^ile  tl\ose,  our  dearest. 

Yet  linger  with)  us  ere  tl^ey  wing  tlieir  fligh^ 
To  tl^at  far  world  Wl^icl]  now  dotl)  seenq  t\\e  nearest, 

So  deep  and  pure  tl|is  sky's  down-bending  ligllt. 
Slow,  one  by  one,  tl:\e  golden  Iqours  are  given 
R  respite  ere  tl|e  eartl\ly  ties  are  riven. 
Wl)en  left  alone,  l^ow  'rnid  our  tears  we  store 
Eacl)  breatl\  of  tl)eir  last  days  upon  tljis  sY\ore  I 


T     V 


Upon   tl)is  sunny  sl|ore 
R  little  space  to  wait:  tl|e  life-bowl  broken, 

Tl\e  silken  cord  Unloosed,  tY\e  nnortal  narne 
We  bore  Upon  tl|is  eartl)  by  God's  voice  spoken, 

While  at  t^e  sound  all  earthly  praise  or  blanqe. 
Our  joys  and  griefs,  alike  wit!)  gentle  sweetness 
Fade  in  tY\e  dawn  of  tl^e  next  world's  conqpletenes 
Tlqe  hour  is  t^ine,  dear  Lord ;  we  ask  no  rnore. 
»But  vJait  thv  summons  on  tl^e  sUnny  sl|ore. 

Constance  Fenimore  Waolson. 


V 


NOON    AT    THE    LAKESIDE 

Wl^ite   clouds,   whiose  sl^adows   h]aiirit  tl^e  deep, 
Ligl^t   nqists  ^hiose  soft  enqbraces  Keep 
Tl^e  sUnsliirie  on   tl^e   Iqills  asleep  t 

0,   isles  of  calrr[I    0,   dark,   still   wood! 
Arid  stiller  sKies  tl^at  overbrood 
Your  rest  with)   deeper  quietude  I 

0,  slqapes  and   hjUes,  dirT\ 
beckoning  tl^rougl:) 
Yon   rnoUntain  gaps,  mv 

longing  vie-.. 

Beyond   tY[e   purple   and 
tYxe   blue, 

To  stiller  sea  and  greener 

land, 
And    softer    ligl)ts    and 

airs    rT\ore    bland. 
And   skies  —  tlc\e   l)olloW   of 

God's   l|andl  ,4 

Transfused  tlqroUgl)  you.   0   rnoUntain   friends  I 
Witl)   rriine  your  solenin  spirit   blends, 
And   life  no   rnore  l^atl^  separate  ends. 


I  read   eacli   nqisty  rnoUntain   sign. 
I   knovi^  tY\e  voice  of  wave  and  pine, 
And   I   arn   yours  and  ye  are   nqine. 


Life's  burdens  fall,   its  discords  cease, 

1   lapse  into  tl\e   glad   release 

Of  nature's  own  exceeding  peace. 


Rocked   on    Uer   breast,   tl:\ese   pines   and 
Alike  on   Nature's  love  rely : 
And   equal   seeiT\s  to  live  or  die 


Assured  tl^at   He  wlqose  presence  fills 
Witt\  ligl^t  tl^^e  spaces  of  tl)ese  b'i]'= 
No  evil  to  l:\is  creatures  wills. 


Tt\e  sirT\ple  faitl^  rernains.  tl^at  He 
Will  do,   wl:\atever  tl^at  rqay  be, 
Tt\e  best  alike   for  n\an  and   ^'''^•"^ 

Wlqat  iTiosses  over  one  slqall   gjow, 
What  ligl)t  and  life  tl)e  ott\er  know', 
UnanxioUs,   leaving   Hirn  to   sl^ow. 

WhltUer. 


::  ..c.JC.;ie 


{  31) 


TO    MY    COMRADE    TREE 

The  tree  may  still  be  standing  -which  shall  be  your  last  resting-place," 

H.  R.  Boyd. 

ReiTiote   iri  \\^oods  W]:\ere  tl^rxisl^es  cl^arit, 
Or  on  sorqe   lonely  rr\OLlritairi's  slope, 

Or  in  a   copse  —  t]\e  cUcKoo's  l^axint  — 
Witli  fingers   pointing  to  tl)e  cope, 

Thiere  stands  a  tree,  tt\ere  stands   a  tree 

Must  fall   before   tl\ey  bury   rqe. 

0  Vi^ailing  l^eartT  wliere'er  tl^ou  art, 
fit  last  tl^y  dust  'Witl^   rnine   sl^all   blend ; 

For  tl^oUgl]  ^e  spend  our  days  apart, 
We   conqe   togetlqer  at  tl^e   end ; 

find  tilou  Wit]:\  ine,   and   I   wit]:)  tt\ee. 

Must  lie  in  perfect  Unity. 

Witl)in   a   crarnped   confine   of  space, 
find   owning   n^ugl^t  of  e'artl^  beside, 

Tl|at  l\eart  TC\ilst  be   rny  dwelling-place 
For  w]:|orn  tl^e  world  Was  not  too  wide. 

R  neW-tinqe   Dryad,   rnine   in.ust  be 

Tl)e   sl^ape   tl\at  sl^all   intiabit  tlr^ee. 

Percl^ance,   in  sonqe  lone  Wandering, 
On  tliy  old  roots   I  n\ay  Y\ave  lain, 

Hnd  l^eard   above,  tl:\e  wood-birds  sing, 
Wh\ile  God  looked   down  Upon  ^s  twain. 

find  did   I  feel  no  tl^rill  Witl\  tl:\ee 

Of  felloWst\ip  and  syiT\patl:\y  ? 

Is  tl^y  strange  l^eart  ne'er  wearied   out 
Witl^  standing   'neatl)  tl|e  oVer-freigt)t 

Of  bougies  tY\at  cornpass  tl:\ee   about 
Witl)  rqass  of  green,  or  wt^ite,   a-weigl^t? 

0  patient  tree  I  0  patient  tree  I 

Dost  never  long  for  rest  —  liKe   rqe? 


(33) 


I  Kriow  tl^OLi   spreadest  grateful  sl^ade 
Wl^eri  fierce  tl^e  noontide  siin  dot^i  beat, 

Hr|d  birds  thieir  nests   in  tl^ee  l)ave   inqade, 
Hnd  cattle   rested   at  tl]y  feet. 

Heaven  gi'ant   1   nqake  tl^is  life  of  n\ir[e 

fls  beaiitifiJl   and   brave  as  tl|inel 

And  'Wi\er\  tY\y  circling   cloaK  is  doffed, 
Tl^ou  standest  on   tl|e  storrq-s^ept  sod, 

And   liftest  tl)y  long  arnqs  aloft 
In   rniite  appealing   to  tl^y    God, 

Appeal  for   rqe  I   Appeal  for  rqe ! 

Tl-|at  I   rnay  stand  as  steadfastly. 

Let  rqe  fulfil   nqy  destiny, 

And  calnqly  \Vait  for  tl)ee,   0   friend. 
For  tliou   nqust  fall,   and   1   rnilst  die, 

And  corqe  togetl|er  at  tY\e  end, 
To  quiet  slunqbering  addressed, 
Sl|Ut  down  fronq  storrn,   sl\ut  in   for  rest, 

Tl)Us  lying   in  God's   nqigllty  fiand 
Wl|ile   l|is  great  purposes  Unfold, 

We'll   feel,   as   Was   fronq   Cl^aos   planned. 
His  breatl^   inforn)  our  fornqless   nqold, 

New   sl]ape  for  tl^ee,   n^W   life  for  nqe. 

For  botJq,   a   vast  eternity, 

nanske  Dandridge, 


C35l 


R    YELLOW    PANSY 

To  tl^e  -wall  of  tl:|e  old  greeri  garden, 
H  butterfly  qiiiveririg  carqe  I 

His  wirigs  ori  tl:\e  sonqbre  licl^eris 
Played  like  a  yellovi^  flarr\e. 

He   looked  at  tl\e  gray  geraniUnqs, 

And  tY\e  sleepy  foiir-o'clocks  ; 

He  looked  at  tl\e  low  laries  bordered 

Witl|  tl\e  glossy-growirig  box. 

He  longed  for  tl)e  peace  arid  silence 
And  tt]e  sl)adows  tl^at  lengtlqened  tliere, 

And   l)is  Wee  wild   l^eart  was  Weary 
Of  skirqiAirig  ti)e  endless  air. 

And  now  in  tl^e  old  green  garden, — 

I  know  not  1]0W  it  can\e, — 
A  single  pansy  is  bloorning, 

Brigt^t  as  a  yellow  flanqe. 

And  wlqenever  a  gay  gust  passes 

It  quivers  as  if  witl)  pain, 
For  tt|e  butterfly  soul  tl|at  is  in  it 

Longs  for  tlc\e  winds  again. 

Helen  Dray  Cnne. 


"**<*;■ 


,^'^ 


^  37  J 


rv 


By  day  a  flower,  by  niglrit  a  bud, 
Her  pure  soul  rocKed  iri  dreanqy  calnqs 

Tln.e  lily  slept  Upon  tl)e  flood 
Her  nun-llKe  sleep  witl)  folded  palrqs. 


MQRNINC 


Last  evening's  bud  laUglis  on  tY[e  flood, 
H  perfect  flOM^er  of  purest  -Wlriite ; 

ilrid  life  is  but  a  folded  bud 
Tl^at  still  awaits  tloie  rriornirig  lig^^t- 

J.  T.  Trowbridge, 
(39) 


Rr\  idle  drearr)er,  ari  idle  drearq ; 

R  napping  suri  arid  a  breeze  at  play ; 
fl  vaqrar\t  stiadow,  a  drowsy  strearri, 
R  lazy, 

loitering, 

sUn\nqer 

day 

R 
SOMNOLENT       " 
YHGflRY 


fl  spider  winding  llis  silver  Keep 
To  l|old  as  l)ostage  a  fly  or  two; 

fl  robin  rocKing  llirnself  to  sleep, 
Serenely  recKless  tliat  notes  are  due. 


^ 


^ 


'\ 


J 


R  butterfly  boat  on  a  Wave  of  air 
Witl)  all  its  satiny  sails  Unfurled 

For  port  in  a  blossonq  l^ere  and  th|ere, 
Tl|e  busiest  tilings  in  tt^is  idle  world. 

fl  gossipy  corn-field,  inaKing  weird, 
Fantastic  bows  in  a  languid  Way, 

fl  tawny  Upland,  witl)  Unsl)orn  beard. 
Gone  fast  asleep  witl^  tl)e  sultry  day 


Tl)e  sky  is  teerning  Witt]  restless  gl^osts 
Frorn  Mount  Olynqpus  and  days  of  old ; 

T]:|ey  flit  dnd  vanisl],  and  lo,  th\e  l^osts 
Of  Jason  seeKing  tl:\e  fleece  of  gold. 

fls  sweet  a  fable  as  one  can  find 

Is  l^id  in  tl)e  "  golden  fleece."  tY\ey  say  - 
01],  you  are  snoring  I  Well,  never  nqind ; 
.    I'll  tell  tl:\e  fable  sonqe  otl)er  day. 


H,'  D,  KnowltDn, 


(4i; 


THE    JULY    GRASS 

fill  tilings  tl^at  are  beautiful  are  found  by  c]:)arice,  like  everytl)irig 
ti^at  is  good,  Here  by  rqe  is  a  prayer  rug,  just  wide  erioUgl)  to 
Kneel  or|,  of  tl)e  ric]:\est  gold  iriwoveri  Witl]  crirrison.  All  tl)e  sultans 
of  tlrie  East  never  t^ad  suet)  beauty  as  tl|at  to  Kn©©^-  on.  It  is 
indeed  too  beautiful  to  Kneel  on,  for  tl^e  life  in  tl^ese  golden 
flowers  rnust  not  be  broKen  down  even  for  tl)at  purpose.  Tl)ey 
rqust  not  be  defaced,  not  a  stenq  bent  I  It  is  rnore  reverent  not  to 
Kneel  on  tl)ern,  for  tl^is  carpet  prays  itself.  I  will  sit  by  it  and 
let  it  pray  for  rT\e.  It  is  so  cornrnon,  tl|e  bird's-foot  lotus ;  it  grows 
everyw]:|ere  I  Yet  if  I  purposely  searcl^ed  for  days  I  sl\oUld  not  l^ave 
found  a  plot  liKe  thiis,  so  ricl),  so  golden,  so  glowing  witl)  sunsl^ine. 
You  rnigllt  pass  by  in  one  stride,  yet  it  is  wortl^y  to  be  tl)OUgl)t 
of  for  a  weeK  and  rernernbered  for  a  year.  Slender  grasses,  brancl|ed 
round  about  witl)  slenderer  bougies,  eacl]  tipped  witl)  pollen  and 
rising  in  tiers  cone-sl)aped  —  too  delicate  to  grow  tall  —  cluster  at  tl)e 
base  of  tl)e  rnound.  Tl\ey  dare  not  grow  tall  or  tl^e  wind  would 
snap  tl:\ern.  H  great  grass,  stout  and  tl\icK,  rises  tt^ree  feet  by  ti^e 
l^edge,  Witl)  a  ]r\ead  anotl^er  foot,  nearly,  very  green  and  strong  and 
bold,  lifting  itself  rigl^t  Up  to  you ;  you  nqUst  say,  "  Wl^at  a  fine 
grass  I '■  Grasses  wl^ose  arrqs  succeed  eacl)  otl)er  alternately;  grasses 
wl^ose  tops  seenq  flattened ;  otl)ers  drooping  over  tl|e  sl:|orter  blades 
beneatl) ;  sorne  tl|at  you  can  only  find  by  parting  "tlie  l^eavier  growtl] 
around  tl\enn ;  l^undreds  and  hiUndreds,  tl\oUsands  and  tl^ousands  I  Tt)e 
Kindly  poppies  on  tf^e  ■  dry  surnrnit  of  tl)e  rnoUnd  taKe  no  l^eed  of 
tl)ese,  tY\e  populace,  tl^eir  subjects,  so  n^^nerous  tliey  cannot  be 
nUrnbered.  R  barren  race  tl^ey  are,  t]\e  proud  poppies,  lords  of  tl^e  July 
field,  taKing  no  deep  root,  but  raising  Up  a  brilliant  blazon  of  scarlet 
l^eralding  out  of  noticing.  Tl^ey  are  useless,  tl^ey  are  bitter,  tl|ey  are 
allied  to  sleep  and  poison  and  everlasting  nigllf ;  yet  tl)ey  are  forgiven 
because  triey  are  not  cornrnonplace.  Notliing,  no  abundance  of  thienq 
can  ever  rnaKe  tl^e  poppies  cornrnonplace.  Tfiere  is  genius  in  triern, 
tl]e  genius  of  color,  and  tlriey  are  all  saved,  Even  Wl^en  tl]ey  taKe  t^e 
roorn  of  tl^e  corn  we  rnust  adnqire  tl^enq.  TJ^e  rqigllty  rnultitude  of 
nations,  tlie  rnillions  and  rqillions  of  tl^e  grass  stretcl]ing  aWay  in 
intertangled  ranKs,  tl^roUgl)  pasture  and  rqead,  frorn  sl^ore  to  s^ore, 
\\ave  no  Kinsllip  Witl)  tl^ese,  tl^eir  lords.  Tl)e  ruler  is  always  a  foreigner. 
Frorn  England  to  Cliina  tl^e  native-born  is  no  King  ;  ^^e  poppies  are  tl^e 
Norrqans  of  t]\e  field.  One  of  tY\ese  on  tY\e  rnound  is  very  beautiful; 
a  widtl]  of  petal,  a  clear  silKiness  of  color,  tt\ree  sl^ades  l\igl)er  tl^an 
tlie  rest,  —  it  is  alnqost  darK  witl]  scarlet.  I  wislq  I  could  do  sonqeti^ing 
nqore  tY\ar\  gaze  at  all  tlqis  -scarlet  and  gold  and  crinqson  and  green, 
sornett)ing  rnore  tlqan  see  it,  not  exactly  to  drinK  it  or  inliale  it.  but 
in  sorn.e  Way  to   nqaKe   it  part  of  rne  tt|at   I   rniglqt  live  it, 

PrDm  an   essay  on  the  July  grass,  by  Richard  Jefferies. 


(43) 


FIELD-PATHS 

Patios   of  tY\e  fields, 

0   pleasant  patios  tl^at  stray 
T:\\YonqY\  tY\e.  deep  \\;irid-trod   pastures  of  tl^e  spring, 
TY\roUqY\  all  tl^e  glory  and  the  blossorqirig 

That  silrqrrier  yields. 
Corripanioned   of  tl^e  golder)  buttercup, 
Up   heaven's  far  cloud-flecKed  sapphire  gazing,  — ^P. 
Piercing  to  heigl^ts  that  see  the  sKylarK  sing,— 
Frorn  the  \\;orld's  weariness,  frorn  ]:\ope's  decay, 
Lead   rqe,   oh^  lead   n\e,   pleasant  paths,   a^ay,— 

Paths  of  the  fields  I 

Who  Knovi/s  not  ho^rs, 

Hours  \\;hen  life   longs  to  cease 
Its   endless  questioning  of  the   rnystery 
Of  sorro\^^ ;  w^hen  the  eternal  ill  we  see 

HU  hope  o'erpowers? 
Oh  I   in  such  ho^rs  of  darKness  and  of  fear. 
In  joy  and   quietude  alike,  be  near; 
Near  in  deep  tranqililness  and   gladness  be  I 
Through  nature's  placid  calrq.  throUgl^i  sWeet  release 
Frorn  doubt,   frorn  tears,   oh  I  lead   rqe,   paths  of  peace, 

Paths   of  tlie   fields. 

William   C.   Bennett. 


THE    RIVER    OF    REST. 

R  beaiitiful  streanq   is  tY\e   River  of  Rest ; 

Tl^e  still,  \\^ide  Waters  sweep  clear  arid  cold, 
fl  tall  rr\ast  crosses  a  star  in  tl\e  west, 

R  wl|ite  sail  gleanqs   if)  tl\e  West  World's  gold 
It  learis  to  tl^e  sl^ore  of  tl\e   River  of  Rest  — 
TY\e  lily-lined  s]:\ore  of  tl^e  River  of  Rest. 


Tl:\e   boatnqan   rises,   l^e   reacl]es   a   i\ar\d, 
He  Knows  you  well,  l^e  will  steer  you  true, 

Hnd  far,   so  far  fron\  all  ills  on   land, 
Fronq  liates,   frorq  fates  tl)at  pursue  and    pursue; 

Far  over  tl^e  lily-lined   River  of  Rest —  "^^^ 

Dear,  inystical,   inagical   River  of  Rest 


fl  storied,  sweet  strearq  is  tl^is  River  of  Rest; 

Tl|e  souls  of  all  tinqe  Keep  its  ultinqate  sl)ore 
And  journey  you  east,  or  journey  you  west. 

Unwilling  or  willing,  sure-footed,  or  sore. 
You  surely  will  corne  to  tl)is  River  of  Rest  — 
Ti^is  beautiful,  beautiful  River  of  Rest. 

Joaquin  Miller, 


-^rCre^'e  ^eS^W- 


^^^ 


(47  ) 


,N 


ONE    BUTTERFLY 

R   purple   stretchi   of   nqoiiritairis. 

Arid   tl^en)   and   rrie  betweeri, 
R   bed  of  s\veet,   red   clover, 

Billows  of  rqeadowy  greer). 
Across  tl^e   Wirid-swept   pastures 

Orie  sr]ovi^-whiite   butterfly 
Sails  toward  tine  grand  l:\orizori, 

Sole   voyager  of  tlie  sky. 

Tl^e   delicate   cloUd-sl^adows 

Wiri   fronf)   ti^e   nqouritain   sides 
Glinqpses  of  sl^y,   strange  color 

Tl^at  cornrrion   sunsl^ine   l^ides. 
]M\]o  reads  tlfjat  revelation'? 

We  only,  tl:\oU  and   I, 
In   all  tl^is  noon-lit  silence, 

My  wl^ite-winged    butterfly  I 

Is   it  a  waste  of  beauty, 

TY\at  only  we  bel^old 
Tl^ose  enqerald  sl:|ades  etl^ereal 

Wavering  tl^rougl^  pearl  and  gold  ? 
My   l^eart  acl^es  witl)  tl^e  Wonder 

Of  all   tl^e   unrolling  sKy, 
Tlie   new   innnqense   I)orizons, 

My   lonely   butterfly ! 

Lucy  LarcDin, 


(49) 


STONE    WALLS 

Hlorig   tlr[e  couiitry   roadside,   stor^e   on   stone, 

Past  Waving   grain-field,   and   r\ear  broken   stile, 
Tl)e   walls   stretcl]   onward   an   uneven   pile, 

Wit]^  ranKling  vines  and   licl^en  overgrown  ; 

So  stand   tl^ey  sentinel,   linclianged,   alone, 

Tl^ey're  left  to  watcl^  tt[e  seasons  passing  slow, 
TY\e  sUn\rT\er's  sunligllt,   or  tl^e  winter's  snow, 

T^e   springtinqe's  birdling,   or  tY\e  aiitiirnn's  naoan. 

Wl^o  placed  tl:]e  stones  now  gray  witlq  r^^ny  years? 

RT[d  did   tl^e   roilgl)  l)ands  tire,   th|e  sore   l^earts  acl^e, 
Tlqe   eyes  grow  dinq  witl)  all  tlqeir  iT\igh|t  of  tears  ? 

Or  did   tY\e  work   seern  liglqt  for  sorqe   dear  sake? 
Tl^ose   lives  are  over.    flU  tlqeir  l^opes  and   fears 

Are   lost,   like   slqadows   in  tl)e   nqorning   break. 

Julie  M,  Llppman. 


THE    SONG    OF   THE    SCYTHE 

Mowers,    nqerry  and   brown   and  blytl^e, 

Whiat   is  tlqe  word   nqethiinks  ye   know. 
Endless  over-word  tlqat  tY\e  scytlqe 

Sings  to  tlr\e  blades  of  grass   below? 
Scytl^es  tlqat  swing   in   tlqe   grass  and   clover, 

Sonqetlqing   still  tl^ey  say  as   tl^ey   pass  : 
Wlqat   is  thie  word   tlqat   over  and   over 

Sings  tl)e  scytlqe  to  tlqe  flowers  and   grass  ? 

"  Husli  I   aYi,   l^iislq  ! "   tY\e  scytlqes   are   saying, 

"  Hiislq,   and    Y\eed   not,   and   fall   asleep:" 
"  Husl)  1 "  tlqey  say  to  tY\e  grasses  swaying, 

"HiislqT"  tlqey  sing   to  tlqe  clover  deep, 
"Hilsl^I"    'tis   tl)e   lullaby   Tinqe   is   singing, 

"  Husl^,  and   Iqeed   not,   for  all  tilings  pass." 
"HUsl)I   al^,    l^ush}  I  "   and   tY\e  scytl^es   are   singing 

Over  tlqe  clover,   over  tlqe  grass. 

Andre-w  Lang, 


(51) 


a 


SWEET    PER 

Wl^y  I  love  you  so  is  plain  to  see,— 
You  are  tt)e  dearest  flower  of  all, 

Sweet  Peal 

K  bit  of  purple  cloud  caUgl^t  on  a  stalK ; 
fl  rosy  vapor  floating  up  and  down  rqy    ; 

garden  walK-  ' 


T\\Q  spirit  of  a  flower  witi^  wings  for  fligl:\t, 
Yet  lield  by  clinging  r-oots  for  our  deligl^t. 


fl  lovely  type  ye  are  of  souls,  al^  rqel 
Eartti-bound,  but  ever  reacl:\ing  i^P. 

Sweet  Peal 


M.  F.  Butts 


JULY 


Wl:)en  tY\e  scarlet  cardinal  tei. 

Her  drearq  to  tl:\e  dragori  fly, 
Rr]d  tY\e  lazy  breeze  nqaKes  a  riesi 

find  nriiirrqiirs  a  lullaby, 

It  is  July. 


K    \\-~^ 


t 


Wt]eri  tl|e  tangled  cobweb  pulls 
Tl|e  cornflower's  cap  awry,      '  y. 

Ri]d  tY\e  lilies  tall  lean  over  thie  Wall     ^^. 
To  bow  to  tl]e  butterfly, 
It  is  July, 

Wl^en  tlie  lieat  like  a  iT\ist  veil  floats, 

find  poppies  flarne  in  tl\e  rye, 
RT\d  trie  silver  note  in  tl\e  strearqlet's  tl^roat 

Has  softened  alrnost  to  a  sighj. 
It  is  July, 

Wl^en'  tY\e  l)ours  are  so  still  tY\at  tirqe 
Forgets  tY\en\,  ar\d  lets  tl^ern  lie 

'Neatly  petals  pinK  till  ttie  nigl^t  stars  winK 
fit  trie  sunset  in  tl^e  sky. 
It  is  July, 

Wl^en  eac^  finger-post  by  tl\e  way 

Says  tY\at  SlUnqbertown  is  nig^l ; 
Wlien  tY\e  grass  is  tall,  and  tlie  roses  fall, 

And  nobody  wonders  wf|y. 
It  is  July, 

Susan  Hartley  S-w/ett, 


(55) 


Its'^ 


r 


sirriple 


Poetry  is  full  of  flower-fields,  because  eaclr\  floiA^er 
seerr^s  full  of  poetry  to  us.     Tl^e  flower-narqes 
are  ofteri  little  poerris  iq  tl^enqselves.     Tl^ose 
lor)g,  urjcoutl)  narqes,   dreaded  iri  botariy, 
l^ide  nature-rneaiiirigs  iri  ttien).     He- 
liotrope  is  "  s]\e 


Wl^o  turns  to 
tt|e  sun  ;  "  M.es- 
erqbryantlrierqUrri 
is  "flower  of  tl^e 
rnidday ;  "  Nas- 

turtiuiT\  carries     ^^_._,,^_^^,_ 
its  rneaning  of      ^^^W^^dft^F  "  bent- 

nose"  in  its  face;        Jr      •  GeraniUrq  is 

"crane's-bill,"  —  let  tlr\e   seed   vessel   grow 

and   it   Will    tell    tl^e    reason  ^^y,    Saxifrage  is  "  rocK- 
cleaver,"   n^nied  so  frorq  its  birttiplace  in  tt^e  clefts; 
flnenon\e  is  "wind-flower."      Tl:|ese,  you  see,  were  but 
t^eart-and-eye  nai^es  to  tlr[e  GreeKs,  or  Ron\ans,  just  as  we  call  tl^e  pets 
l^eart's-ease,  day's  eye,  inqorning-glory,  l:\oneysUcKle,  rnignonette.     Eacl)  peo- 
ple  rias  its  own.     Otl^er  flower-narqes  corqe  down  to  Us  irqpearled  Withj 
rqytl:)  and  story,  —  tt^e  liyacintl:!,   narcissus,   Solonqon's-seal,   arett^usa,  tl:\e 
passion-flower.    Wl^at  sacred  rorqances  tY\e  lotus-flower,  tl)e  TT\artyrs-palrq. 
tl:\e  victor's  laurel,  recall  T    Tl:\ere  is  probably  no  fanqous  poet  t]\at  Y\as  i\ot 
sealed  l^is  fanqe  into  a  song  about  soiT\e  favorite  of  tlr[e  field. 
Wordswortl^'s    celandines    and    daffodils    are    noted,    and 
Burns'  daisy,  and  Herbert's  rose,  and  Erqerson's  rlqo- 
dora,   and   Lowell's  dandelion,  wlqile  in  ClqaUcer  thie 
wlqole  spring  buds  and  sings,  and  all  along  tlqe  lines 
of   Tennyson   flowers   brusi)  you  witt\   fine   toucl^es. 
Nay,  every  one  plays  poet  Witlq  tlqenq,  altlqoUglq  Iqe 
writes  no  verses.    We  use  tlqenq  to  interpret  all  tl^e  ten- 
derest  tilings  in  life-    Wlqen  tlqe  lovers  want  to  tell  tl^e  un- 
utterable words,  tl-^ey  betake  tlqerqselves  to  tlqe  durqb  n\essengers 
Wlio   l^ave  learned  to  say  so   rr\Ucl).    Wlqen  We  want  to  rernerqber  a 
l|ill-top  view,  a  rqeeting  tl:]at  Inas  made  a  l)oliday,  sorTqe  spot  l^oly  Witl) 
old  l)istory.  We  plucK  a  flower  to  f\old  tY\e  n\ernory  fast.    WY\er\  We  Want 
to  send  tt)e  t^orqe-presence  tangibly  in  a  letter,  a  flower  frorq  tlqe  Window 
or  tlqe  field  close  by  Will  carry  it  best.     Old  booKs  drop  out  tlqe  faded 
blossorqs,  put 
Tlqe  Califor- 
ease  just 
ere    it 
and  in 
drove 

Iqospitals, 
greeted    tlqe 
got    sorqetliing 


^f 


tlqere  "to  riqarK  great  places  witlq  due  gratitude." 
nia  rqiner  caUglqt  sigl)t  of  tlqe  nqountain  l^eart's- 
Wlqere  Iqis  Uplifted  picK  Was  going  to  fall,  and, 
fell,   l\e  Was   at   l^orqe  across   tl^e  continent, 
^    l^is  own  pasture,  wlqere,  a  barefooted  boy,  lc\e 
tlqe  cows  a  tlqoUsaqd  tirqes.    HollylqocKs  aqd 
lilacs,  —  wiio  tlqiqKs  of  tlqen)  and  does  not 
see    a    qUiet  country  dooryard    in    tlqe 
sunslqine?    Tlqe  sicK  soldiers  in  arrqy 
longing  foi*  certain  faces,  tones,  and  touchies, 
flowers  as  tl^e  best  substitute.     "  Now  I've 
you  I"   said  a  wonqan  n^i'se,  l^olding  a  buncl) 
belqind   Iqer,  to  a  very  sick   New  England   soldier,  — "  sonqetl^ing  for  you, 
just  liKe  wilat  grows  in  your  front  dooryard  at  Iqoinqe.    Guess  I  " 


for 


(57) 


■'  LalocsT'  l^e  whiispered,  arid  sY\e  laid  tl^err\  on  l^is  folded  l^arids.  "  0Y\, 
lalocs  I  l^ow  did  yoU  Know  tl^at?"  Tl^e  lilacs  outlived  l^inq. 
We  bring  flowers  into  .our  cl:\urcl|es ;  liKe  riqusic  visible,  tl^ey  fill  tY\e 
pauses  in  tlcie  service ;  and  Wh|o  conqes  Y\eYe  Witl^  purer  face  or  life  of 
sweeter  obedience  to  tl^e  laws  of  Nature  ?  So  sweet,  so  pure  tl)ey  are,  tl:\at, 
liKe  tl^e  l:\oliest  friends,  thiey  fit  not  joy  and  Wedding  nqornents  only,  but 
still  nqore  naturally  tl^ey  coinqe  in  arT\ong  tl^e  tragedies,  tt\e  silences,  t]\e 
h[eart-breaks.    Is  not  tl^is  tl^e  reason  winy  ?  — 

"  Wtien   lieaven  grows  din\,   and  faitl^  seeKs  to  renew 
T^e  linage  of  its  everlasting  dower, 
I   Know   no  argUiT\ent  so   sweet  as  tl^roUgl:) 
TY\e  bosorn  of  a   flower,  — 

"R  WicKet-gate   to   l)eaven    (of  w}:|icl:\   Deatl) 

Is  tl^e   grand   portal,   sealed  to   nqortal  eyes). 
Between  Wl\ose  little  bars  tl:\ere  cornes  tl^e  breatt) 
Of  airs  fronq  Paradise." 

Wtien  tl^e  "grand  portal"  I^as  opened  and  sI|Ut  close  to  Us,  and  We  are 
left  witl:\  straining  gaze  outside,  "tlrie  WicKet-gate"  seerT\s  to  give  conqfort. 
It  seeiris  to  grant  sonqe  little  vision  into  tl\e  I]idden  iieart  of  tilings, 
suggesting  tl^at  ttie  darKnsss  everywl|ere  Isolds  possibilities  better  even 
tlqan  our  l]opes.  Save  for  tl|e  flower-fact  wl:\o  could  l:\ave  drearr\ed  tl)at 
sucl)  beauty  lurKed  in  tl)e  darK  eartl\,  was  latent  in  t^ie  tiny  seed?  So 
We  place  tl\e  flowers  around  tl|e  still,  cold  face ;  We  lay  tl:|erT\  on  graves  ; 
we  bring  tl|ern  to  tl|e  sicK-i'oonq  and  tlqe  bedside  of  tt\e  dying ;  and 
everywiiere,  after  Words  fail  and  even  rqusic  IiUslies,  tl^eir  presence  is 
a  voiceless,  unconfuted  argUinqent  tl^at  tl:\e  Power  Witlr^in  all  silences 
and  pains  and  tragedies  is  Love,  and  tl^at  t]\e  possibilities  of  life  are 
infinite. 

W.  C.  Qannet. 


(59; 


4irt 

WM 

i 

V* 

f 

1 
J 

THE    CITY 
Tlciey  do  rieitt^er  pligtit  nor'  \^ed 
In  tl^e  City  of  tl^e  Dead, 
Iri  tl)e  city  \^^l:\ere  tl:\9y  sleep  av^ay  tl:|e  t)ours 
But  tl\ey  lie,  ^l^ile  o'er  tl-ierT\  range 
Winter-bligl^t  and  surnnqer  c]:|ange 
And  a  t|Undred  l^iappy  \\;]:)isperings  of 

flOM^ers. 
No,  tl^ey  neitlier  \v)ed  nor  pligl:\t, 
And  t]:\e  day  is  liKe  tl^e  nigl^t. 
For  tt^eir  vision  is  of  othier  Kind  /ly 

tl\an  ours. 


.y*'^ 


Tt^ey  do  neitl:\er  sing  nor  sigt) 

In  tl^at  burgl:\  of  by  and  by 

Wl^ere  tlrie  streets  I^ave  grasses  growing 

But  tl^ey  rest  ^itl:)in  tl:\eir  bed, 

Leaving  all  tt^eir  tr^oUgl^ts  unsaid, 

Deerning  silence  better  far  tl^an  sob 

or  song. 
No,  tl^ey  neittier  siglri  nor  sing, 
Tl\oUgl^  tl^e  robin  be  a-\v»ing, 
Tl:|OUgl:)  tl^e  leaves  of  aUtUrqn  rqarcti 

a  rqillion  strong. 


cool  and  long  : 


Tl:\ere  is  only  rest  and  peace 

In  tl^e  City  of  Surcease 

Frorn  tY\e  failings  and  tl^e  \v>ailings 

'neatl)  ttie  sun. 
And  thie  v^ings  of  tl^e  swift  years 
Beat  but  gently  o'er  tl:\e  biers 
Making  rn^lsic  to  tl^e  sleepers  every  one. 
T]:\ere  is  only  peace  and  rest: 
But  to  tl^ern  it  seernett)  best. 
For  tliey  lie  at  ease  and  Know  tl^at 

life  is  done. 


(61) 


Richiaid  E,  Burton. 


THE    OTHER    SIDE 

ClinQbirig  tl^e  nqoilritain  s  sl:\aggy  crest, 
I  Vi^ondered  rr\Uc]:\  -Wl^at  sigt^t  \\/>oUld  greet 
My  eager  gaze  ^l^eiie'er  rr\y  feet 

Upon  t]:|e  toprr\ost  t^eigt^t  slfioilld  rest. 

Tl^e  otlier  side  lA^as  all  Unkriowri ; 

But,  as  I  slovi'ly  toiled  along. 

Sweeter  to  n\e  tl|an  any  song 
My  dreanq  of  visions  to  be  slioWn. 

Meanwl\ile  tl\e  rnoUntain  sliriibs  distilled 
Tl\eir  sweetness  all  along  rny  Way, 
find  tl)e  delicious  sUrnrner  day 

My  t^eart  witl|  rapture  overfilled. 


Ht  lengtl\  tl)e  toprqost  n^igllt  was  gained  : 

Tl)e  otl|er  side  Was  full  in  view ; 

My  drearns  —  not  one  of  tl^ern  was  true 
But  better  far  l^ad  I  attained, 

For  far  and  Wide  on  eitl\er  l^and 
Tl)ere  stretcl^ed  a  valley  broad  and  fair 
Witt)  greenness  flast\ing  everywl^ere, — 

fi  pleasant,  smqiling.  liornelike  land. 

Wl)o  Knows,  1  tlioUgt]t.  but  so  'twill  prove 

Upon  tl\at  nnountain  top  of  deatli, 

Wl^ere  we  sl^all  draw  diviner  breatl), 
find  see  tlie  long-lost  friends  we  love 

It  rnay  not  be  as  we  Y\ave  drearqed, 

Not  \\alf  so  awful,  strange,  a 

R  quiet,  peaceful,  l^orqeli' 
Better  tt\an  e'er  in  vision  g 

Meanwl^ile,  along  o^UpWard  way 
Wliat  beauties  J^K,  wlqat  visions  glow  I 
Wl^atever  sliaj^f  be,  tl)is  We  Know 

Is  better  t^ar\JOUr  lips  can  say. 

Jnhn  W.  Chadvjlck 


(63) 


OVER    THE    MOUNTAINS 

WY\at  slc\a\\  I  see  if  ever  I  go 

Over  tl^e  Eqouritairis  t\igt|? 
Now  I  can  see  but  t\\e  peaKs  of  sriow, 
Crowriirig  tl^e  cliffs  wliere  the^ine-trees  grow, 

Waitirig  and  longing  to  rise 

Nearer  tl^e  becKoning  sKies. 

TlTje  eagle  is  rising  far  away 

Over  tl^e  rnountains  Iriigli  T 
Rowing  along  in  tli©  radiant  day, 
Witlri  rnigl^ty  stroKes  to  l)is  distant  prey  I 

Wl^ere  l^e  will,  swooping  downward, 

Wl)ere  l^e  Will,  sailing  onward. 

Birds  witl|  your  cl^attering,  wl^y  did  ye  corqe 

Over  tl|e  rnountains  lligl)? 
Beyond  in  a  sUrnrner  land  ye  could  roarn, 
Hnd  nearer  to  l:\eaven  could  build  your  h)orneT 

Wriy  l)ave  ye  corqe  to  bring 

Longing,  witi^out  your  w?ing? 

St^all  I,  tl^en,  never,  never  fly 

Over  t]\e  nqountains  lligl^9 
Rocky  Walls,  will  ye  always  be 
Prisons,  until  ye  are  tornbs  for  rne, 
Until  I  lie  at  your  feet. 
Wrapped  in  rny  winding-sl|eet  ? 


flwayl  I  will  away,  far  aWay, 

Over  tl|e  rqountains  hiigl|  I 
Here  I  aui  sinking  lower  eacl)  day, 
Tl^oUgl)  rny  spirit  h|as  cl^osen  tl^e  loftiest  way  T 

Let  l^er  in  freedorn  fly, 

Not  beat  on  tl^e  walls  and  die! 


Over  1  know,  I  sl^all  journey  far 

Over  tl)e  rnountains  l^igll. 
Lord,  is  tt^e  door  already  ajar? 
Dear  is  tl^e  l^orqe  wl^ere  tl^e  saved  ones  are  I 

But  bar  it  awriile  frorn  rqe. 

And  lielp  rr^e  to  long  for  tliee 


(65) 


WHERE    DID    IT    GO  ? 

Wh|ere   did   yesterday's   sunset   go 

Wl^eri   it   faded   down   tl^e    hiills   so   slow. 

RT[d   tY[e   gold   grew   dirq,   and   th|e   purple   ligl^t 

Like  an   arrriy   witl)  banner's   passed  frorn  sighit? 

Will   its  flusl^   go   into  tl)e  goldenrod, 

Its  tl^rill  to  tlie   purple  aster's  nod, 

Its   crirr\son   fleck   tl)e   rqaple-boUgl], 

Hnd   tl]e  auturqn-glory  begin   froiri   now  ? 

Deeper  tl)an   flower-fields  sank  tl^e  glow 

Of  tY\e  silent  pageant  passing  slow. 

It   flusl\ed   all   T[iqY\t   in   rnany   ci   drearn. 

It  tl^rilled   in  tl^e  folding   Iiush,   of  prayer, 

It  glided   into  a  poet's  song. 

It   is   setting   still   in   a   picture   rare ; 

It   cl^anged   by   tl\e   rqiracle   none   can  see 

To  tine  sliifting   liglits  of  a   synqpl^ony  ' 


And   in   resurrections  of  faiti]  and   l]ope 
TI)e  glory  died  on   tY\e  staining   slope. 

For   it   left   its   ligllt   on   tl^e   l^ills   and   seas 
TY\at  rirn  a   tl^ousand   rnernories. 

William   C.   iJ-a.niiett. 


(67; 


THE    SNOWING   OF   THE   PINES 

Softer  tY[ar\  silence,   stiller  tlqan   still   air,  ' 

Float   down   frorr)  l^igl)   pine   boUgl^s   ttie  slender  leaves, 

Tl)e   forest  floor  its  ann^^al   boon   receives, 
Tliat  cornes  liKe  snow-fall,   tireless,   tranquil   faii^ 
Gently  tliey  glide,   gently  tl)ey  clotlrie  tl\e  bare 

Old   rocKs  witl)  grace,    Tlieir  fall   a   n\ar\tle  Weaves 

Of  paler  yellow  tlian   aUturnnal   sl)eaves 
Or  tliose  strange   blossorns  tl:\e   witcl\-l:iazels   Wear 
Atl)wart  long  aisles   tlie  sUnbeanqs  pierce  tlieir  way  : 

Higl)  Up,   tlie  crows  are  gattiering   for  tt\e   nigtit ; 
Tlie   delicate   needles   fill   tl^e   air ;   tl\e   jay 

Takes  tl\roUgli  tlieir  golden   mist   l)is   radiant   fligllt ; 
Tliey   fall   and  fall,   till   at   November's   close, 
Tl)e   snow-flaKes   drop   as   ligl^tly,   snows   on   snows 

TtiDmas  Wentw/orth  Higginsan 

NIGHT   IN    PEACE 

Night   in  tlie   woods,  —  nigl^t : 

Peace,    peace   on   tl)e   plain 
Tlrie   last   red   sunset   beam 

Belts  ttie   tall  beect)  witli   gold  ; 

Tl)e  quiet   Kine   are   in  tlie   fold, 
Hnd   stilly  flows  tlie   stream- 
Soon   sliall  we   see  ttie   stars   again. 
For  one   m^^e  day  down  to   its  rest   lias   lain. 
Hnd   all   its  cares   Iqave   taken   fligllt. 

Hnd   all   its   doubts   and   pain 
Niglit   in   tlqe   woods,  —  nig ^i^ ; 

Peace,   peace   on   ttie  plain 

E.  R.  sill. 


(69) 


R    BAND   OF    BLUEBIRDS 


(IN  B.UTLJMN) 


[Kn.n,  llMii-iliN  .Ma..\/.im..  (-..iiyrij;:!!,  1.S.SC.,  Iiy  llur|nT  \  IJrotiK 


Oh.   happy  band  of  bluebirds, 

Brave   prophets  of  the  spring, 
flnqid  the  tall   and  tufted   cane, 

How   blithesonnely  you  sing' 
What  rqessage  ha^-iilts  your  nqusic 

Mid   auturnn's  dusky   reign? 
You  tell  us  Nature  stores  Y\er  seeds 

To  give  thern  back   in   grain  1 


Your  throats  are  gleeful  fountains, 

Through   v^ihich  a   song-tide  flov^; 
Your  voices  greet  rne  in  the  v^'oods 

On  every  Vi^ind  that  blows  I 
I  drearn  that  Heaven  invites  you 

To  bid  the  Earth  "  good  by ;  " 
For  in  your  wings  you  seerr\  to  l:\old 

R  portion  of  the  sky  I  4 


Oh,  happy  band  of  bluebirds, 

You  could  no^  long  rerqain 
To  flit  across  the  fading  fields 

And  glorify  the  grain.  •  ■ 
You  leave  rr\elodious  nqernories. 

Whose  sweetness  thrills  n\e  through 
flh.  if  i^y  songs  were  such  as  yours 

They'd  alnqost  touch  the  Blue! 

\sniliam   H.    Havne. 


:\. 


(71; 


SEASIDE    GOLDENROD 


^ 


-2/ 


Graceful  tossing  pluinqe  of  glowing  gold, 
Waving  lonely  on  tY\e  rocky  ledge ; 

Leaning  seaward,  lovely  to  bel^old. 
Clinging  to  tine  liigl^  cliff's  rocky  edge; 

Burning  in  tl^e  pure  Septenqber  sky, 
Spike  of  gold  against  tl^e  stainless  blue 

Do  you  Watc^i  tl^e  vessels  drifting  by? 
Does  tlie  quiet  dayseenq  long  to  you? 

To  you  rr\y  l)UrT\an  tl^ougl^t  I  bring, 

Sit  nqe  down  your  peaceful  watcl)  to  sl^are 

Do  you  l)ear  tl^e  waves  below  Us  sing  ? 
Feel  you  tlie  soft  fannirig  of  tlie  air? 

How  n\UcY\  of  life's  rapture  is  your  righ|t? 

In  eartl^'s  joy  Wl]at  rTqay  your  portion  be  ? 
Rocked  by  breezes  touched  by  tender  ligl^t. 

Fed  by  dews  and  sung  to  by  tl\e  sea  ! 

Sornet^[ing  of  deligl)t  and  of  content 
Must  be  yours  l:\owever  vaguely  known ; 

Hnd  your  grace  is  nqutely  eloquent, 

And  your  beauty  nqakes  tl^e  rock  a  thrnnp 

Matters  not  to  you,  0  golden  flower! 

Tl|at  sucli  eyes  of  worsl^ip  Watcl)  you  sway, 
But  you  riqake  n:\ore  sweet  tl)e  drean\ful  hour, 

And  you  crown  for  n\e  tY\e  tranqiiil  day. 


^^ 


(73) 


THE    BLIND   GENTIAN 

It  grows  in   nqariy  a   r)ooK  ar)d   berid 

Our  ailtunqri   ways  along. 
Far  coiisin  of  tl^e  flower  wliici)  love 

Has  sanctified  Witl)  song. 

fi  poor  relation,  so   it  seerns, 

Wliorn  no  one  cares  to  praise  I 
Tl^at  never  gave   a  poet  yet 

One  leaf  anqong   1)13  lays. 

No   nqaiden   lays  you   to   tier  breast 

Or  bends  you  to   I|er  zone. 
No   rutl]less   l]and   is  glad   to  plucK 

RT[d   clairn  you  as   its  own. 

I   often   wonder  wl\at  witl^in 

Dotl~i   security   abide  ; 
And  never  yet  l|ave  dared  to  plucK 

Tl\e  clinging  veil  aside. 

Wl\atever  fate  Iiatt)  rnade  you  tI)Us  — 

H  fountain   closely  sealed  — 
One  lesson  i^  your  looKs  I  find 

For  gentle  souls  revealed. 

For  wl]o,   and   not  fiirnself  be  blind, 

Can  pass  your  coverts  by, 
Nor  find  tl|e  colors  tl^at  you  wear 

Ti)e  bluest  of  tl)e  sKy. 

Sucl\  your  reward,   or  sucl)  I  deern, 

For  reverence  pure  and  sweet, 
Wliicli  veils  an   angel-face  Wl\ere  sorne 

RUsI)  in  with}  foolisl]  feet. 

Dear,   l)Urqble   flower,   go   l\orne   Witt\   nqe, 

TY\at   I   nr\ay   better  tell : 
Witl)   sUcli  as   are  least  bold   Witt)   l|eaven 

DotYx  nqore  of  l]eaven  dwell. 

J.  W.  Chadwlck. 
(75) 


DOWN    TO    SLEEP 

NoVerTiber  -woods   are   bare   arid   still ; 

Noven\ber  days  are  clear  and   brigl)t ; 
Eacl]  rioon  biirris  Up  tl^e  irjorriirig  cl|lll ; 

TY\e  n\orning's  snow   is  gone  by  nigl)t. 

Eacl)  day  n)y  steps  grow  slow,   grow  ligilt, 
fls  thirougl)  tl)e  woods  I   reverent  creep, 
Watcljing   all  tilings  lie   "down  to   sleep." 


-i«iiitf 


I   never   l^new   before  w]:\at   beds, 
Fragrant  to  srqell  and  soft  to  toilcli, 

Tl)e  forest  sifts  and  sl^apes   and  spreads. 
I   never  Kn©^  before  l:\ow   nnucti 
Of  l]iirnan   sound  tl\ere'  is  in  silc]\ 

Low  tones   as  tl|rougl\  tl)e  forest  sweep 

Wl)en   all  wild  tilings  lie   "  down   to  sleep," 


if- 


^^^'^fli 


'TOk 


Eacl)  day   I   find   new   coverlids 

Tucked   in,   and   rriore  sweet  eyes  s^^Ut  tigl|t 
So]Ti.etiiT\es  tl^e  viewless   rnotl|Gr  bids 

Her  ferns   Kneel  down,  full   in   n)y   sigl)t ; 

I   liear  tl|eir  ct^orus  of  "good  nigl^t ;  " 
Rr\d   lc\a]f  I   siiqile   and   l^alf   1   Weep, 
Listening  Wtjile  tl)ey  lie   "  down  to  sleep." 


Novernber  woods   are   bare  and   still ; 

Novenqber  days  are   brigl|t  and   good  ; 
Life's  noon  burns  Up   life's   nqorning  cliill ; 

Life's  nigllt  rests  feet  tl|at   long   l^ave  stood ; 

Sonqe   warnq,   soft  bed   in  field  or  wood 
Tl)e   nqott^er  will  not  fail  to  Keep, 
Wl)ere  we  can   "  lay  Us  down  to  sleep." 


Helen  Hunt  Jackson, 


(77) 


Hours  ain\less  — dr;^     _    is  tY\e  n|ilK-Weed's  down 
In  seenqirig,  still  a  seed  of  joy  ye  bear 
T]\at  steals  into  tl^e  soul,  wir^en  Unaware, 

Ri\d  springs  up  Mernory  in  the  stony  town. 

J  J)  Helsn  Dray  Cane. 


o^V^ 


/5/: 

m 


4 


(79)     ^^ 


i.  "u  ti  J.  i> 


D     000  323  354     i 


